Take her. Protect.
Ours.
It was a constant stream of ownership in his mind. The only time his godsdamned dragon would cease was when Luella was in his line of sight—when he saw that bracelet on her wrist and felt peace, knowing she had a piece of his hoard on her body.
Behind the thick clouds, the sun was setting, and the sparkling blue waves were beginning to fill with shadows.
The room opened straight into the sea, a small stone lip with a low rail, and beyond, nothing but the ocean. In the distance, his eyes picked up on the mountains that enclosed the Isles, and the dark streaks in the sky as Fallen flew through the dimming light of eve.
Luella’s pleasure battered against him, even as she slept. Azgorath had whispered into the link, letting them all know she rested. And yet, Vale still felt waves of her sated pleasure. Unable to be ignored.
That had been hours ago. The King had spent the time since seeking pleasure by his own hand—andnothaving much-needed discussions with the others now that they were here. On the Fallen Isles.
Graves’s home.
Vale sighed, leaning against the stone arch of the doorway, feeling the night breeze whisper against his skin as he stared out at the sea. Graves must come to terms with it all eventually. Vale was only sorry for the male, that Luella didn’t seem inclined to forgive him. Not yet, at least.
Though, he knew it was an inevitability. If she forgave Bastian, had forgiven Graves somewhat, and no longer looked at Tharen and Vale like they were monsters… Then she could find it in her strong heart to forgive Graves for this secret. No matter how monumental it may appear.
Everything happened for a reason, of this Vale was certain.
Knuckles rapped against stone, and the King turned, hair blowing in the wind.
Graves himself stood by the curtain to the room, his black wings tucked close to his back. He wore a simple shirt, crafted for the winged, the open back allowing his wings to be unbound. His eyes were solemn, and anyone who had not known the male for as long as Vale would think him to be unaffected by everything. But Vale knew he was not.
"Opulus is here," Graves started. "He said the Queen will be arriving shortly. With my siblings." He scrubbed a hand over his face—the most emotion he had shown in the past few weeks, since the start of their voyage.
Vale stepped away from the open doorway, his dragon curled up inside him, tail twitching. "Okay. We keep it as planned. You are sure Queen Samil will offer protection for Luella?"
Graves dipped his chin. "She will. On this, I have the utmost faith. She never wanted me to leave, but she holds true to beliefin the Fates. I never shared with her the nature of the prophecy or my leaving, as you know. We’ll explain enough to her, but not too much." He stepped closer, jaw set. "I won’t risk putting her or my siblings in harm’s way. They can’t know too much, Vale."
The King had always been jealous of Graves for having a loving family. Perhaps that was why he tried so desperately to understand the male, but never could. Vale had never known why Graves was so reluctant to return to the Isles after his father’s death.
Vale had killed his father, too, and shame did not grip him like it did the other male—merely a resolved sense of determination and pride. Vale’s father had been a wretched male, nothing like Graves’s. Yet, the two commonalities between them had been committing patricide to save someone else, someone they held dear.
For Vale, it had been his half-brother, Caliban.
And for Graves, his family.
"You have my word," Vale said. "We will tell the Queen of Luella’s wings, and only enough to have her protection. She cannot knowwhywe seek Emarelia. Telling her why we’ve come is dangerous enough."
"Agreed," Graves replied, and a soft rustling sound filled the air.
They both turned to the open circle of Graves’s palatial home, and Vale’s green eyes sparked with fire as his dragon bristled at the intrusion. His mate slept here, and they both did not take well to interlopers.
Vale measured his breaths. "Keep quiet. Luella needs her rest."
Graves nodded his assent, and they walked out into the circular expanse, vines curling around pillars and the open doorways letting in warm air tinged with salt.
Queen Samil stood—without her guard—her black wings folded to her back, her dark gown falling to the floor with opulent grace. Opulus stood near the door, his spear crossed over his chest. Even though this was supposed to be a private reunion, the Fallen was still on guard as he watched. Vale resisted the urge to bare his teeth and rile the male.
Three winged beings stood slightly behind the Queen, all with the same dark hair and dark feathers.
A choked sob filled the room.
The youngest of the Damaris siblings shot forward, her dark wings snapping out behind her to propel her straight to Graves, who stood rigidly.
"Sorren! I thought it was untrue. I thought Mother had been tricked. But you’re here!"
